Page 6 of Ruthless Demon

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but for how long? Here lies my problem, Lucifer.” He crosses one leg over the other, comfortable as he ever was bringing his troubles to me. His choice of room makes sense now. He’s putting me where he wants me, back in the position of his advisor, pretending I’m on his side before negotiations have even begun. He’s a wily bastard. “If I return your human to you, no matter what you’ve given me to get her back, you’ll leave with her and I’ll be left in the same vulnerable position I’ve been in for the last fifty years. Do you see my dilemma?”

“Your so-called ‘vulnerable position’ doesn’t appear to have had any adverse effects. The way you’ve been after me recently, I would have thought archangels were camped out on the roof.”

“Ah, but my demons aren’t camped out in Heaven either, are they? We’re at a stalemate, Lucifer, and the only way to victory is with you by my side.”

I scoff at that. “There is no way to victory for you. Your best option is to call for a peace treaty, just as I told you before. The armies are too evenly matched. And let’s say you did win this endless war, what would you do with Heaven? Are you going to run that like you run Hell? Are you going to take two planes in hand and control them both?”

He gives me a sharp look, then smiles. “You see, Lucifer, it’s those questions which make you invaluable to me. No one else asks them. No one else thinks to ask. You have skills, experience, training, and a unique perspective. You’re the strongest, the smartest, the most devious.”

“Now,” I interrupt, correcting his sentiment.

He pauses, frowning. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m the most devious, now. Uriel held that title before, or have you forgotten him?”

He cocks his head to the side for a moment, then sighs. “Ah, I see. You’re worried that coming home will result in your death. I can’t promise that it won’t, of course—this is war, after all—but you would not make the same mistakes Uriel made.”

“Like listening to you?”

He twists his lips in a sardonic smirk. “Precisely. You’re a rebel, Lucifer. That’s why I need you.” He contemplates his drink for a moment, then shrugs. “But, if you are intent on maintaining your rebellion on Earth rather than joining the war effort, I can accept that. Of course, I would be keeping your pet here. I can think of many uses for her over the course of her short life.”

Fenriz clears his throat, interrupting the rush of rage washing through me.Fuck. If I hadn’t already decided to let Cephalus feel like he’d won, I might be losing right now. He knows exactly which buttons to push, and how.

“What will it take for you to release her, never touch her, and never allow any of your minions to so much as breathe her air?” I question, arms folding.

His gaze is piercing steel. “Loyalty. Make Hell your home once more, and your woman’s. She will be allowed the same comforts which are yours by birthright, but I’m too old to be chasing my son out of his girlfriend’s realm every few days to attend to his duties. You will return to your assigned post as leader of my armies.”

I pretend to think about it. “For how long?”

“Until the war is won.”

Which will never happen because it’s impossible. He’s extending me an offer of permanent residency in Hell, along with Sophia. I can’t picture her, with all her softness and light, living here forever; it would destroy her. I swear I’ll get her out. I’ll get us both out of this. I just need to buy some time to figure out how to do it.

I look at my father and hold out my hand. “Done.”

Chapter4

Sophia

Are humans eternal in Hell?Is entropy an Earthly problem?

Everybody from Hell seems to be eternal barring violent death, but they’re immortal on Earth as well, which means I’m probably mortal in Hell, right? Unless the religions have it right and there’s some kind of human transmogrification that happens when you get to another plane of existence.

I wish I’d taken the time to ask Lucifer these questions. Of course, that’s assuming he’d even know. Just how many living humans are captured and brought to Hell, anyway? Not many, I imagine. Listening to Naamah and Cephalus talk, you’d think that humans are seen as vermin around here. We probably are, honestly. What’s ninety years, if you’re lucky, compared to eternity?

I just wish I wasn’t so cold. The discomfort of the cell helps me stay awake, but the cold keeps making me want to fall asleep. Knowing I’ll have to give into it eventually disheartens me, not wanting to face the torments of my own dreams. At this point, I don’t know if the bliss or terror is worse when I close my eyes. I roll my aching shoulders against the wall, shifting my hips slightly on the hard floor to sit on a place that isn’t quite as sore.

I’ve grown used to the sounds here. Even the distant screaming isn’t as grating as it was before. It’s white noise, and I’m no longer saddened or worried about what was inspiring the cries. I wonder what that says about me. Has my empathy tapped out? If I ever get back home, am I even going to give a shit about anything or anybody? The thought of being rendered incapable of caring about Cassidy ignites a spark of anger in my core. This is all Cephalus’s fault.

Footsteps break up the sounds of Hell.

Someone’s coming this way.

I stand up, unwilling to be seen huddled up, looking weak and hopeless. I might not have a heck of a lot of hope left, but I’m not weak. Not yet, anyway. Cephalus steps into view and that spark of anger erupts in a roaring flame.

“Just the asshole I needed to see,” I spit, too pissed off and frantic to be afraid of speaking to him like that. My heart is racing, but I can’t tell whether fear or loathing is making it beat like that. “This fucking kennel isn’t fit for a damned dog, you—”

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